Parenting Grown Children: What Dr. Spock Forgot to Tell Us

Daily Lives: What do they really want from you?

Jen's mother-in-law is visiting. She's come from her home in Michigan to help with the Washington, D.C. baby--five months old and gurgling. Jen's just come back to work--she has the office next to mine--and she needed the help: Her husband is away at a conference and she has some obligations this week that would make it hard for her to get home in time to pick up the baby by day-care "curfew."
She and her mother-in-law are getting along very well, Jen says. Except for one small thing: Should the baby stay home with grandma or go to day care? Her mother-in-law stayed home with the baby on Monday. On Tuesday, she suggested the baby go to day care. "You don't want to get her out of her routine," Jen's mother-in-law said. 
Here's the conversation I had with Jen:
Jen: I'd much rather my baby stay home with her grandmother. I don't care about breaking the routine.

Me: Maybe that's your mother-in-law's way of saying, "'It's too much for me."

Jen: I can understand that. And I'd be happy to take the baby to day care. I just want her to be honest with me.

Me: That can be hard. She loves the baby. She wants to be helpful. But it can be hard staying home all day with the baby.

Jen: Well, I asked her if she preferred I take the baby to day care. She hurt her ankle the other day and I told her I could understand that it might be hard on her leg to move around with the baby. I asked her to be honest with me. And she just said, "You shouldn't break a baby's routine."

I know what Jen is talking about. I also think I know what her mother-in-law is saying. You want to be helpful; you've come to your daughter or daughter-in-law's house to help out. But it's confining and lonely and, depending on the Grand's age--tedious [newborns sleep the hours away] or exhausting [you're on guard every moment]. I've used similar subterfuges to avoid saying, "It's too confining and lonely. This isn't my house. I have nothing to do here--you don't want me taking over your kitchen or putting my imprint on your house. I need a break."
Jen's point: It's OK to say I don't want to be home with the baby all day today. Just don't pretend it's otherwise, because that way the best interests of the baby may not be being served.

That may be what she says. But is honesty the best policy? What would you do?

I

A New Baby: Offering help in one form and another

There's a lot of excitement in our small family. We have a new baby--that is, Uber Son and his wife have brought forth their third. Babies are something we know something about. And we also know--experience cannot be denied--how hard it can be to juggle taking care of a newborn while also meeting the needs of two young children, a spouse, a home and mealtimes. We know how helpful it is to have another pair of hands--especially hands that can drive a car and take a child to piano lessons, get another to soccer practice, race to the supermarket for supplies, cook meals that can be frozen for use on another day--and bring the nursing mother a glass of water while that new baby is taking nourishment (oh the thirst when you're nursing).

Paterfamilias and I just spent several days as extra pairs of hands. This is, of course, a basic service that comes with being parents of grown children.  But when we leave--we live a seven-hour drive to the south--both Paterfamilias and I key in on the same thing: How will they manage? I am distraught that I can't offer to spend another week or two to help. (It's something called a job.) What, after all, am I here for if not to help when help is needed. I look at my schedule and try to figure out when I can come back.

Paterfamilias has another solution. He sends them a check, earmarked for paying for babysitters. Get them often, he writes in his note.

It's practical. It's helpful. And it's also appreciated. And it's what we parents of grown children can do when we can't do the job ourselves.

A Big Event: Who has the bragging rights?

Our friends the Ds are having a baby. Let me rephrase that: Their daughter is having a baby. Her second. Their fifth. Their daughter's husband called at midnight with the good news: healthy 8-lb boy. By 12:02, Mrs. D was at her computer sending out an email announcement to family and friends.So far, so good--except that her daughter hadn't called her brother. It was late, the brother had three small children under five years of age and sleep is a precious commodity. The call could wait till morning. The sister-in-law, however, was up at 6, logged onto her computer and got the news by email from her mother.-in-law. Her nose was quite out of joint. She and her husband wanted the joy of the personal announcement from the daughter and brother-in-law. They  were quite resentful about the email.

I think about that now because we are having a baby. That is, uber son  and his wife are having their third. She is almost a week late and we are in daily communication about when an inducement might take place. Soon, if that baby doesn't make it's way into the world by week's end. So I bring up the question about who will tell uber-son's sister. Does he mind if we do?
He is dumbfounded by the question. "We're a close family," he says. "Who cares who calls first?"

Presumably, it's the mass email that's less than a charm. A call is still personal. Email's OK for friends and far-flung family but not for the nuclear ties that bind. At least this is the note I've made to myself.